


Respite

by heysnippet



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: ABSOLUTELY NO SHIPPING OF ANY KIND not even implied. this isn't romance, Fantasy, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), basically just a VERY abstract ranboo pov of dream smp events, it's not too dark or sad but it's a little dark and a little sad, mild dream smp spoilers, warning for poetic descriptions of violence and other things like war, yes this originates from minecraft but this doesn't refer to minecraft in the slightest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heysnippet/pseuds/heysnippet
Summary: The best questions are answered with silence and the breath of the wind.The worst questions are solved with violence.And smoke.And hurt, and war, and sides over people and hate over everything.These are the staples of Ranboo's life.This is not the life he is meant for.
Kudos: 9





	1. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING oh gosh oh frick oh no. that being said, this might get a little intense in the way it's worded just because it is heavily centered around war and might hint at derealization and things like that and is just surreal in general so if you're sensitive to things like that you might wanna stay away from this one anyways stay safe and love y'all <333

Darkness.

Aching, soul-crushing darkness.

And warmth in that darkness, as well, something sick and alive and squirming.

All things begin in that black silence between life and death, and all things end in that space as well. 

I had no way of knowing which one surrounded me.

With closed eyes, I reached out in front of me for something that I could not see nor hear.

A single, intoxicating breath pushed me forward, out into the blinding light under a sun that I could not recognize and I realized that I was alive.

Everything hurt.

From that part onwards, I do not remember events so much as I remember feelings.

Reaching hands.

Voices.

And I do not know much about words but I knew enough to know that these words were meant to hurt me.

When I spoke, they bit back at me.

______

The best questions are answered with silence and the breath of the wind.

The worst questions are solved with violence.

And smoke. And hurt, and war, and sides over people and hate over everything.

And so it came to be that my arrival was not met with love but with conflict, and that my arms were not lifted into the air with triumph, but pinned behind my back with force.

And that all my sentences ended with question marks because nothing was certain in this new world of mine.

And that I always ended back in that dark place from which I was reborn.

And I knew that it was not a place but a thing, alive as it was.

And that it was dangerous.

And although I had not learned much, my heart knew how to feel fear.

And it did.

______

And then there was blood.

I do not remember if it was day or night or some other form of consciousness entirely when the fighting broke out.

Battle came to us, and it took more than just lives.

In the light of war, I began to wonder. When all the cruel familiarity that I knew shattered, was it wrong for me to want it back, even if it hurt me?

Because there was comfort in the pain, did it make it alright again? And did all these questions make me weak?

For while they were fighting, I was writing as I watched cities burn under his thumb, and although he played at it, he was no god. There was no triumph in this violence.

But they all fought anyway, and their swords spoke the words that they could not.

And every death was not a life that used to be, but a warning.

And every drop of blood on the tiles showed everyone that they were better.

They were not better.

And so it came to be that everything I said started like this, terrified and uncertain, as if my own words were hardly worthy of existing.

Maybe there were lovers in that war.

Maybe there were songs and poems and hearts that begged to be heard, that screamed until they broke.

Because we were not meant for this.

And maybe, in a different world, I would have been meant for this. Maybe I would have been made to kill and break and steal.

In this world, I was not.

I had known that since before there was anything in this world but light and darkness and that sliver in between, and now that sliver has become everything that I knew.

Because I fight for the ones I love.

And they hate me, and they fight the ones that I hate and I hate them all for it.

And with those words I become the thing that I hate.

Hate.

Hate.

Hate.

  
  



	2. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ranboo learns to think alone.
> 
> It is not the same as thinking for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK LMAO I LITERALLY NEVER POST MY WRITING BUT IM DOING ANOTHER CHAPTER OF THIS I GUESS
> 
> again, it is dark, and rEALLY ABSTRACT, so it might feel surreal and stuff like that so ya know stay safe, i love you all, have a fantastic day <3

In the lull of battle, in the whispers of war, I learned to think alone.

It was not the same as thinking for myself.

My own thoughts provided little respite. Half of them were only made to hurt me. Half of the things I knew only served to mock me, to taunt me, to turn myself into my own greatest enemy.

And I hated that, too.

And I knew that I hated it and I knew that I was paranoid and I knew that every single sound and every raised voice was aimed at me and I knew that I was the cause of all of this violence, somehow- I was aware of it all, and still, inexplicably-

I could not remember.

And those thoughts came and went and took me in until I was a part of them instead of the other way around.

And then I found myself in that place again, that I had been thrown from, into this world that had no place for me.

And I realized that it was not the beginning, or the end. It was a holding cell, and it suspended me in space, and together we waited.

For something.

For change.

For mornings that felt like mornings.

For all of the people torn apart by this war to be together again in universes beyond this one.

For love and for light and for thoughts that don’t feel like drowning.

And that is where my other thoughts came into play.

In the dark light of my dreams, there is space for all of the things I wish to say.

Somewhere, in this tangle, someone is listening.

And I speak to them.

And they hear me, and they understand.

They understand the longing I have for the things that I cannot have, and although it hurts me to think of all these beautiful things, there is respite in the fact that I am not alone and that I poison the both of us with these thoughts.

Because dying is terrible, but it is the most human thing of all to die with someone else. Because that is all we are. We have our delusions and our dreams and we reach skywards until the sun burns our shaking fingers back down in humility, and we rise and we fall, and we fight and we win and we lose, but in the end, we are just dust amongst the many.

Our victories have no meaning, and our losses are hollow.

Why do we do it all? Why this war, why these sides, why this hurt?

At the end of everything, none of us are alive for this.

We are not made for violence.

We are not built to break.

And we do not live to die.

______

One day I will take the hand of hope and I will walk blindly through these battlefields with no light to guide my way.

And I may die.

Cut me down with your swords, splinter me with your words.

I will fall.

There it is, I’ve said it.

I will.

And you will, too, and we all will, until this ends.

Until there is reckoning in this darkness.

Until there is respite.


	3. Hollow Cities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ranboo visits a war-torn city and begins to fully grasp the consequences of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! this chapter is kinda darker than the other ones so far so read at your own risk, just for like descriptions of war and things like that, so yeah. that being said WHAT THE HECK THANKS FOR ALL THE READS ITS CRAZY WOOOOOOOOOOO i love you all have a fantastic day <3333

The next morning, under the dim light of a dreary sky, I wandered.

The buildings that I found were home to nobody, for although there were people inside, there was no light in their eyes. Although there were posts holding up the walls and arched windows closing out the cold, this was no place to live.

The people knew this.

And yet, they were the lucky ones.

One who wishes for nothing is never disappointed.

And so they live, and will continue to live until they are killed.

And that will be their life.

And that is simple enough for them, a fate already decided, at least in their eyes.

Yet, still, against all that the universe throws at me, I wish for so much more than burnt out houses and empty eyes and the hateful clash of blades that has come to be all I know.

I walk in silence, and I can hardly see the things in front of me.

Maybe I am going blind.

Or maybe, more likely, I just don’t want to see the truth in front of me.

Because I know that I am the reason for it all.

And the sobbing mothers holding their children outside of flame-wrecked houses are a product of my own existence.

And the empty pair of children’s shoes on the cold tile of the street, as well.

_Those shoes belonged to someone, you know. That boy should have been playing with his friends, running through the streets shrieking with joy, out until his mother calls him in for dinner._

I know that.

And it hurts.

I want to tell those mothers that their children are coming home from battle.

I want to rebuild those houses with my own two hands, until my nails are ragged and I can’t feel my fingers anymore.

I want to find that child and give him back his shoes.

But I cannot.

Because that child is dead.

And those children are never coming home.

And those houses will never be lived in again.

______

I run from those streets if only to pretend that it was all a dream.

It is because I am a coward, and I know that.

Worst of all, I have nobody to speak to about this except for that little voice in my head that plagues me with thoughts of a better life.

_We’re friends, you know, and yet you say I hurt you. Why do you shut me out as you do?_

“I don’t know.”

_I’m all you have._

“That’s not true. It’s- it’s not.”

And I heard it in my own voice that I didn’t believe a word of what I was saying, and that I only wanted this victory to prove that I was not nothing.

Because winning was the most important thing of all, right?

_Those boys you used to laugh with only laughed at you. And where are they now? They’re fighting. What do you have now, if you denounce me?_

I paused.

“Myself.”

_And what does that count for?_

I did not answer this time.

I knew it counted for nothing.


End file.
